That the children of her dear mistress would be allowed to grow up, ignorant of the knowledge that belonged to their station, and strangers to the Bible their mother had loved, Daph would not allow herself to believe. “It will come, I’se sure!” Daph would say to herself; “de great Lord can make it right!” and thus she stifled her anxious forebodings, and strove to do the duty of the present hour.
Mrs. Ray’s temper was not quite as trying as when Daph first made her acquaintance. The kindness of the honest negro, and her cheerful acceptance of the trials of her lot, had their influence under that humble roof, and won respect and affection, even from Mrs. Ray. The sunshine of Charlie’s happy, roguish face, had cheered the lonely widow, and Louise had exerted on her a softening, refining influence. Mrs. Ray was improved, but not thoroughly changed.
Little Mary had many harsh words yet to hear, but time had abated the poignancy of the mother’s grief for her lost darling, and made her somewhat more alive to the virtues of her hard-working, quiet, little girl.
During the three years that had passed, since they had dwelt under the same roof, sickness, at various times, had made the little household seem like one family, and the habit of helping each other had daily drawn them nearer.
Mary’s demure face was lighted up with wonder as she said to Daph, one day, “There’s a gentleman at the door, asking if mother still lives here, and if you are at home.”
“Is it a tall, tall gentleman, that looks grand-like and magnificent?” said Daph, earnestly, as the thought of her master at once rose to her mind.
“Not exactly,” said Mary, and, as she spoke, Mrs. Ray opened the door, and ushered in Captain Jones.
Although her first feeling was disappointment, Daph shed tears of joy as she clasped the hand of the honest captain; her tears, however, brightened into smiles as she saw the approving look the captain bestowed on her pets, as he caught them in his arms.
Charlie struggled and fought to be free, shouting, “I like you, sir, but you need not squeeze me so, and rub me with your rough whiskers.”
Charlie got another hug for an answer, while Louise said, “Who is it, Daph? It cannot be my father!”